Tales of a Champion
by Daedric Princess of Madness
Summary: "In the end, you are always alone in your actions." Snapshots into the life of Elinora Hawke: mage, runaway and eventual Champion of Kirkwall. Focuses more on character development than actual plot. Eventual F!Hawke/Fenris.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Oh, boy. Here we go.**

**Firstly of all, I conceptualized this story idea around a year ago when I first started playing Dragon Age, and to finally be posting it now is a bit weird...**

**This is a bit different to my other works. I never really got the whole drabble thing, but I think DA2 would be best presented in that format. It just seems like the kind of game that would be excellent for writing drabbles, so here we go. Let me know what you think as this writing style is very new to me.**

**A few things you should know:**

**1: This is set in a universe where there was more than one Grey Warden, and there were two Amells. **

**2: None of the chapters, save for the prologue and epilogue, will be in chronological order unless stated otherwise.**

**3: Expect updates to be sporadic, but when I do update, there'll be two or three chapters.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Prologue.<strong>_

The sounds of slamming doors sounded in his ears as he was being dragged down the hall, ready for whatever they - the Chantry - was ready to throw at him. They dragged him down more halls - familiar halls - and he was forced to look upon this place again.

Hawke Estate - the one place where every single one of them swore never to return. And here he was again, ready to be interrogated.

He was thrown to a chair, and let out a yelp of surprise before recovering from his shock and looking up, to see a formidable woman wearing Chantry armor.

She wasn't just anyone. She was a Seeker, and a known one at that.

Cassandra Pentaghast stood tall - even for a human woman - with tanned skin, short dark hair and a formidable stance. She slipped open a large book and began fingering with the pages.

"I've had gentler invitations," Varric quipped.

Pentaghast disregarded those words.

"I am Cassandra Pentaghast," she said, her words layered with ice as she spoke. "Seeker of the Chantry."

_I am well aware of who you are, _Varric thought.

Varric felt his heart skip a beat or two as Pentaghast nodded towards the two men behind him.

"And...just what are you seeking?"

"The Champion."

Varric raised his eyebrows.

"Which one?"

Within seconds, he felt his forehead being slammed by the large book Pentaghast was holding, but even worse, the woman was shouting.

"_You know exactly why I'm here!" _She yelled. Before Varric could react, Pentaghast withdrew her sword and pointed it towards his neck. _She's so close...so close to slitting my neck. _This wasn't the first in his life his neck had met the edge of a blade, but it unsettled him nonetheless. Eventually, the Seeker pulled the blade away.

"Time to start talking, Dwarf," Pentaghast spat, "they tell me you're good at it."

The blade stabbed through the pages of the book. Varric, who by this time knew he was outnumbered and unarmed, decided he could do nothing else but go along.

"What do you want to know?"

"_Everything," _Pentaghast said pointedly. "Start from the beginning."

So he told her.

He told her about how village of Lothering was destroyed, and how the Champion, alongside her twin brother and sister, fought the Darkspawn as they escaped together. How they found a dragon and -

"Bullshit!" The seeker seethed. Varric knew that she wasn't stupid. How she could sense the lies mixed in with truth. "That's not what really happened!"

"Does that not match the story you've heard, Seeker?" Varric asked.

Pentaghast let out a disgusted noise - it sounded a bit like a growl.

"Yes," she admitted. "But I didn't come here to hear _stories. _I came to hear the truth."

"What makes you think _I _knew the truth?" Varric countered. He was getting sick of this. He wanted this to be over. What this woman wanted was beyond his thinking. Probably beyond the Maker's too, now that he thought about it.

"Don't lie to me!" The Seeker seethed. "You knew her before she even became the Champion of Kirkwall!"

Varric raised a hand.

"Even if I did, I don't know where she is now," Varric admitted, trying to sound as sincere as possible. Pentaghast narrowed her eyes in his direction, trying to sense whether he was lying or not.

"Do you have _any _idea what is at stake here?"

Cassandra Pentaghast's brown eyes were slits.

_Sure, _Varric thought.

"Let me guess," he began, "your precious Chantry has fallen to pieces and put the entire world on the brink of war. And you need the one person who could help you put it back together."

If that was true, it was be something for him to laugh at later.

"The Champion was at the heart of it when it all began," Pentaghast said. Her tone was softening. "If you can't point me to her, tell me everything you know."

"And you aren't afraid I'll just make it up as I go along?" Varric challenged.

Pentaghast's eyes were icy again.

"_Not at all."_

Varric sighed and sat back in his chair.

"May as well take a seat, Seeker," he said, "and some refreshments for us both. This is going to last awhile. Because you're going to need to hear the whole story..."


	2. Magic

**A/N: Here's the first chapter.**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Magic.<em>**

When I was younger, I was discovered to be a Mage.

It was something that caused instant uproar in our household, when I started to show signs, either by doing some of the oddest things to the flowers, or other signs I didn't recognize as a little girl, but my father had. Mother was rather upset.

"But, Malcolm," I had heard her whisper to him, "if the Chantry catches us, it'll be even _worse_. Elinora could get taken away!"

My father only laughed.

"Leandra, I haven't been caught yet! No child of mine is going to get taken by the Chantry, so don't worry."

I was only a child. I didn't know what the Chantry was at the time. I also caught the words "maleficar" and "abomination" and "templar." All words I didn't know or understand.

My father taught me magic himself, and how to manipulate the forces of nature with the powers the Maker had given me. When Bethany was found out to be a mage, too, she learnt alongside me, and we grew close as a result. Carver - our brother - often sat back and watched us with a sour expression on his face as we watered Mother's roses with our spells. He wasn't a mage, and I had the feeling he was a bit jealous.

When I got older I didn't understand Carver's jealously, as I learnt just how bad mages had it in Thedas. The Chantry wanted us locked up in their circles where they could keep an eye on us. If Mages weren't part of the Circle, they were Apostates, like us. Father often stipulated rules for me and Bethany, insisting we couldn't use our magic out of his line of sight. And we also understood that blood magic was wrong.

I broke the no magic rule once or twice, but only because it was more convenient for me at the time. But I was never stupid about it. Bethany listened to Father most often.

Magic became a ruling factor in my life up until the day I died. Long after Father died, and long after I arrived and fled Kirkwall. It kept me alive.

But it also very nearly killed me.


	3. Running

_**Running.**_

We were running, and had been for hours. We were running even though our legs were tired, and we wanted to settle down somewhere and hide. I was in the lead, and I kept casting spells in the Darkspawn's directions, sending bouts of ice across the dusty floor. Bethany did the same, and Carver swung his extremely large sword, sending several Genlocks flying in the process. It was after the last battle that I was tempted to rest against one of the walls and catch my breath, and took the chance.

"Maker save us," my mother began with a sigh, "we've lost it all. Everything your father and I built."

We had. Not long after a mysterious group of people entered Lothering, then left shortly afterwards, Darkspawn had overrun the village. Sister Leliana and the Qunari that had murdered Bethany's friends were gone, and death was everywhere. Taking everything we could carry, me and my family had fled into the woods nearby.

It was then that I realized it was the first time I had ever left Lothering. It was where I had grown up, and to see the entire village destroyed by those evil creatures felt...wrong was an understatement. I had no words to describe the horrors.

My feelings, however, most likely paled in comparison to that of my mother's and my siblings. I decided it was time I stepped up.

So I pulled the most sincere smile I could muster, turned back to my family, and said, "at least we're alive. That's no small feat."

In reality, however, that's not how I felt inside. Inside I was screaming that everything was beyond _wrong_. Everything was ruined, and would never be right ever again. And I just felt so tired and I wanted nothing more than to rest at the very least.

But I couldn't. Not when we were out in the middle of nowhere and I had to be the leader.

So I kept running.


	4. Loss

**A/N: A singular update for now, btw.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Loss<strong>_

I couldn't stop it in time, not matter how hard I tried. It happened all before I could even register it.

The Darkspawn were overwhelming us; surrounding both me and Carver where we stood. I was exhausted by the time they had all been taken down, and could barely hear as the ogre charged towards us all. It only took a moment for Bethany to charge up her magic.

"Maker give me strength!" I heard her yell, before she charged towards the ogre in front of her. She succeed in burning off a patch of the ogre's skin, but it didn't do much good. The ogre grabbed her like she was nothing more than a children's toy, and slammed her body to the ground several times, until she was nothing more than a broken body on the ground.

I wanted to grieve; my sister was dead. _My _sister, the one who I was very close to growing up. My sister, the only one other than my father that understood what it was like growing up with magic. My sister - _Bethany - _was dead.

My mother rushed towards Bethany's body, breaking down into wracked sobs. Carver, Aveline, Ser Wesley and I took down the ogre quickly enough, but after that, I felt both my body and mind screaming. Bethany was dead, and I didn't stop it. Something my mother was quick to remind me about.

"How could you let her charge off like that?" She demanded in between sobs. "You _sister? _And my little girl?"

Wesley then commended her soul to the Maker, but I didn't pay him any attention. The only thought I had on my mind was that Bethany - my sister and best friend in all of Thedas - was gone.


	5. Aveline

**A/N: Hi, Aveline.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Aveline<strong>_

The first time I ever met her, she was holding her sword and shield, fighting off Darkspawn. She was covered in blood, but she didn't seem to care. I didn't blame her.

She was fighting alongside who I later learnt was her husband and a Templar, Sir Wesley, a man with dark hair and eyes. One of the Darkspawn grabbed him from behind, until she noticed and grabbed the Darkspawn back, knocking it to the ground.

"You will _not_ have him!" She screamed, before grabbing the sword beside her and cutting the beast's head off it's body. Blood oozed into the dusty ground, but she again didn't care. She turned towards her husband, helping him off the ground.

"They will _not_ have you," she said, though this time her voice was a bit quieter. "Not while _I _breathe."

My first impression of the woman was that she was a strong woman with incredible resolve. I had no idea whether she'd be a person who'd protect me or want me dead.

Thankfully, it was the former.

Her name was Aveline, as I later found out. I would never tell it to her face, but the name suited her, given what I knew from Ferelden legends.

She also became one of many good friends I had, even after we all went our separate ways.


End file.
